Secondly, there was [[Amsoft]], Amstrad’s software arm. It didn’t program much itself, preferring to commission outside programming teams or small software houses. But it ensured that, when you bought a CPC, there was a ready- made library of games, educational programs, and even the odd word-processor to choose from. Instantly, the CPC had eclipsed the Enterprises and Lynxes, and was on a par with the Spectrum and C64. The less said about the actual games, the better.
And that, with one or two refinements, is the same CPC we know today. Expansion kits (disc drives, Amstrad-branded printers, serial interfaces and modems) followed in due course. The disc drive was soon incorporated into the main computer, resulting in the short-lived (but [[twiffic]]) [[664 ]] and the perennial [[6128 ]] – intended to spearhead Amstrad’s failed drive into the American market, but soon revived as the flagship CPC back home.
The CPC design remained unchanged until the ill-fated [[Plus ]] machines, a story in themselves. Amstrad ceased production of the Plus in 1992 or so – a fact singularly unreported outside French magazine [[Amstrad Cent Pour Cent]].
Meanwhile, Sugar was keeping busy. The one-box approach was repeated in 1986 to produce the PCW 8256, a word- processor with distinct similarities to the CPC. £399 got you a computer, monitor, word-processing software, disc drive and printer; another good deal, and to this day, the PCW is what most laymen associate with the word ‘Amstrad’. It, too, spawned a host of derivative machines with varying memory, disc drive and printer configurations.